The Last Day
by Materia-Blade
Summary: Sequel to "So Be It" and "Mark in the Lace." Final arc. A story that begins with a pair of reunited lovers, and ends with a battle that will wrack world with memories for all eternity. Tarmon Gai'don comes. O Light. The Last Day comes...


Disclaimer: I don't Own Ranma ½ , Slayers, Sailor Moon, or Wheel of Time. They are the property of their respective authors, artists etc.

Author's Notes:

Well, this is the final show. We're getting close. Two megalithic scenes left. The great Merge, which I've been hinting at for so long you should all but KNOW what's gonna happen already. And Tarmon Gai'don. Are you ready? You all disappointed me with the number of reviews on the completed final chapter of mark in the lace! Perhaps this will do a bit better. And so soon after? Heh. Hope ya like.

Can't wait to see what you think!

Enjoy.

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"_A girl could do a lot worse than you, you know? You have an entire nation behind you. Ryoga. Aemon. I hear they mean to make you their leader, whatever their old laws say about it..._

_Hah. Yes, That does seem the sort of thing that would terrify you."_

—_Rei Hino_

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**The Last Day**

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_**Prologue**_

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Usagi stared below her at the city, Luna curled lazily about her shoulders, but her eyes staring just as hard downward. A city. Or the ruins of the city. Deep in the midst of night, people stood in various factions, below, some fighting, many hiding, and all dying. Lit only by the flames licking buildings and streets and roads all around, and the blue moonlight flowing down illuminating everything. Some people stood on this same building with her Mamoru, Makoto, and Luna, huddling for safety. They seemed to be quite terrified of her, and well they should be. She had appeared out of nowhere, just as these monsters had. Why wouldn't they think she was with them?

She could see the main camp, a ways away towards the sea. Another camp lay on the other side, but it was smaller. Western New York had fared better against these beasts than the eastern side had. She could see, but still, this place wasn't right. She had to attack the source. The main hold. Her attacks would work marvelously for these. She had been _born_ to slay the shadow, and the more numbers surrounding her, the more that would die. A better spot. She needed a better spot.

She leapt, and was unsurprised to find the others following after her. Landing on a building a few stories taller than the one she had left, she leapt again almost instantly, moving quickly for a building with a direct overhead view of the place where the gateway had opened.

'Gateway…? Shadowspawn can't use gateways…" The thought floated up within the depths of her concentration, and she knew the thought had not been hers, but those of Serena. Hers… but not. Abruptly, though, she realized that the flows that had generated this gateway were not those of Saidar. She couldn't even feel the slightest hint of residues. Not Setsuna then. Hopefully.

Below she saw cookfires, made upon the stone streets out of the bones and flesh of the dead. Pots hovered above hundreds of the fires, holding within them still more men and women. Behind the front lines, debauchery and death seemed to dot the entire area for those captured by the Myrdraal.

A heavy wave of trollocs seemed to have spread out from the spawning point of the first gate. Trollocs were sweeping through the city, finding and destroying everyone and everything they could. Ransacking buildings floor by floor. Or at least that is what had happened. They seemed to be lounging now, their task complete for the most part.

But most of that had already been done. Those not dead were fleeing to the south and north where the armies still held. Usagi knew that this was a dead city already… probably likely to become something similar to old Cidea. Sacked by the Dark. She would reclaim it.

'Cidea?' She thought questioningly. It had meant something for a moment, but she didn't understand. Another… solar system? No. That wasn't possible. She must have just imagined it.

Below was what was important. People were there. Dying in cookfires. Screaming under the dark touches of the eyeless, right in broad daylight. And those were probably the lucky ones.

Holes had been dug wherever there was dirt to dig. And where there was not, stone and concrete had been ripped away. Trollocs, digging under Myrdraal taskmasters. Digging. Digging. Smoke rose from those giant holes and tunnels, and Usagi knew that there was only one possible reason.

"They've crafted a forge. They plan to turn New York into a forge for tainted swords." She murmured. A forge. Using the flesh of the dead, of children and babies and mothers, to feed the fires and craft the tainted blades that would sweep across the world like a whirlwind.

If she did not stop it.

"Th-this is… horrible!" Makoto exclaimed, and Mamoru's own eyes were widened in stark terror too.

Ah. They had never seen such things before. They thought their enemies would always search for mere life energy. All the others had. That had been all they'd wanted. Usagi knew better. These beasts were different. They would not care about the energy of men. They cared only for slaughter and killing. Only fear could steer these monsters, and only death would halt their relentless attacks.

"They should be scoured from the face of this world…" She stated, with all the regality of a queen.

Without a phrase, without transformation, without anything, the stately gown of Serenity flowed into existence, circling her, enveloping her with the power of the Moon. Anger tainted her and she quelled it, leaving only the cold duty of what had to be done.

Better that those people die along with the Trollocs. Those that survived would probably be half mad. No way to live. She was truly freeing them from what would have been a horrid death. At least, that was what she tried to tell herself.

Staring down at one of the giant camps, just bordering the Hudson river, she took aim.

"U-Usagi! There are people down there! There are…!"

"Blessed Moon." She stated. Not shouted. She was different. Her way was different. Everything, _had_ to be different if she wanted to save people.

Like a coiled spring, an image of the moon appeared before her. A hologram, it seemed, only slightly transparent, yet large. Perhaps three feet in diameter. Widening her hands, the white sphere grew smaller with every inch. With every inch her hands grew wider, the ball compressed. More power. More, pushing the spring inward on itself. Smaller, glowing ever more fervently white, until it outshone everything, a great whiteness. It was giving away her position she knew, but she could move to another building in a heartbeat. And she would.

'Forgive me… innocent ones. I'm sorry.' She thought to herself, a small tear falling down her cheek.

The ball floated, now only the size of a tiny golf ball, or smaller. Floated to the edge of the building, and fell, slowly, slowly downward, a snowflake drifting down into the center of that camp.

Sounds began to drift up from there. Worried trolloc sentries, lazy as they were, pointed up to the building with the bright light. Myrdraal rushed towards the foot of the building. 'Too late, shadowspawn. Too late.'

Serenity watched the tiny beings step away from the small ball of glowing light, just before it faded from sight. A step off the ground.

A dome of light exploded from the camp, blasting outward and enveloping the wretched ones, and their eyeless leaders in white molten death. Buildings, and the castings of buildings were melted away before they even had the chance to fall.

Serenity did not stop. Another ball of white light bloomed and shrunk with twice the speed of the first. Falling down into the streets. Then it too, fell. Another crafted and fell, as she jumped to another building, further away, moments before the one she and her Senshi stood atop melted and was burned into nothingness.

Another ball. Another! Each a bomb, each crafting its own white dome of death, slaying all, destroying all, each leaving its own crater, rubble from buildings not quite within the range of each dome, crumbling down into the depths of each new crater. The things men built falling, washing away.

It was not long before Serenity turned the sky into her own polka-dotted canvas. For each bomb that fell, another three decorated the sky.

Death for the shadowspawn rained. Death for the dead city rained from the sky.

She never stopped moving, and if her two friends were in shock at what she did here, at least Luna saw the right of it. The cat lay on her shoulder, never once even shaking at the destruction her power brought down.

And death fell, a giant judge's gavel, wherever there was light.

Serenity landed on another building, and readied herself to craft more falling death, when suddenly, pain burst within her, erupting forth from her abdomen. Gut wrenching pain like nothing she had ever known.

She let go, and the white lights vanished, and so too did the gown of Serenity.

She fell, and was caught by Mamoru. He smiled down at her, and she found herself smiling back. There were tears in his eyes too. Perhaps they did understand a little bit. Hacking, trying to swallow down and calm herself, so she could find out why she hurt so badly, she lay down on her back, pain wrenching her. An arrow? What hurt? Why did it hurt? She stared down at her stomach, pulling up her shirt and finding no wound… nothing to cause the agony within her gut.

Below, on the shimmering glass of the roof upon which she had landed, the reflection of the moon flickered. She stared up. And found a moon, blacker than the deepest night. At her _home. _

'_This was all a distraction!' _She thought sickened. This war. Attacking america! Everything... was all a distraction so… so Setsuna could…

Tainted blackness blurred her vision. Sickness and death seemed to crawl under her skin. Pale, she stared. "S-Setsuna… how could you..?"

The Dark One had lain his hand across her home. And she knew that somehow, she would have to stop it.

Somehow…

Darkness took her.

* * *

Min Farshaw considered herself a sensible woman. She did what she wanted, for the reasons that she wanted and that was that. She'd always been able to keep a cool head in the face of even the greatest danger.

Before meeting Rand, she'd fancied a few men. When they'd lain in the arms of other women behind her back, she had cared little. She hadn't gone slitting their throats like some women would have. No. She had simply broken off her relationships.

Soon or late, that was probably what led her to prefer wearing men's clothing, and sometimes even acting the man, though with her bosom and hips, it was likely she couldn't pull off _that_ any longer. But even during these times she had always been sensible.

When Egwene had been captured by the Seanchan, and it seemed all but impossible for her to get away, to escape being taken across the Aryth Ocean and sold as a pet damane, she had managed to keep from panic.

When the Tower had broken, she had saved Siuan and Leane from the dungeons, fighting going on all around her, and never even looked back. She was brave, sensible, honest, and smart. Always looking for the silver lining in any situation. Always as optimistic as it was possible to be.

And she wanted to kill herself.

Staring down at the dagger in her hands, as she had been for the past hour, she didn't know what was stopping her. Rand was dead. Rand… Rand al'Thor. Her reason for being. Her… light… she'd not even _wanted_ to fall in love with him!

But she had. Oh and how she wished she never had. Her mind twisted and bended. Tarmon Gai'don approached. Rand would not be there to stop it. The visions she had seen floating around him had failed her. Had lied to her, as the viewing of Moiraine had. He was gone. Dead. And the Dark One was breaking free, more by the day.

Death would be sweet release. Death would be… it would be… She could escape the pain of the whole he'd left within her. She could stop bawling in the mid-conversation. Stop… feeling! Just… stop…

The dagger seemed to stare at her. Without Rand, the thing seemed a lover's caress, just waiting to be touched.

"_He lives…" _

Min jerked. Left. Right. She saw nothing but the walls of her large room, where she and Rand had lain together for so many nights. Where had that voice…?

"_He lives, child. He lives."_

"You taunt me! Leave! Let me… Let me die in peace. I must find him. I have to…! I have to—!" She screamed into the air.

"_Embrace me…"_

And without warning, she held it. The blue, half moon pen in one hand. Dagger in the other. This…? She had put this into the back of her mind, and ignored it for as long as she could. She'd almost forgotten the strange event had even happened, chalking it up to one of the bubbles of evil of the dark one's escape. Or perhaps Rand's ta'veren messing with her.

But… he lives. Truly…? Could it really be…?

"Uranus Planet Power…" She murmured, almost as if in a trance. Light enfolded around her. Embraced her. Power… power of some sort, unlike anything she had ever felt. And the world shifted. Away. Away.

Away.

It seemed seconds. It seemed years, but she could tell not which, until she finally woke.

She blinked for a moment. Daylight surround her. And then gasped as the ground rushed to meet her. A loud splash, and suddenly she was spluttering in freezing cold water. Cold as it was, it felt welcoming. She splashed, rising herself back to the surface, gulping air.

"_Blood and bloody ashes!" _She spurt harshly. Forward, there was nothing but water. She turned to her left. Nothing but water. Nothing. Treading the water, a cold chill began to trail down her spine. What in god's name had she gotten herself into—!

Rand!

_Rand!_

_RAND!_

She could _feel him! _She could feel him again! He was there!

She turned. The sea floated all around her, calm in the midst of the ocean. But it did not matter! He was there, in her mind! She could feel him! And that meant he could feel her too! Her eyes turned to where the bond told her he was, and found a giant… _thing_ floating on the water, impossibly, as surely metal such as that could _never _float. Yet still, it moved towards her. And she felt him grow closer. Closer!

He was there. He lived… and he was there! Oh thank the light! She had… found him. She had found him!

Raising her arms in plea, she desperately waved to tiny people flitting about the deck, situated high above any deck she had ever before seen, and shouted with all her might.

Rand was alive! Light be praised… Her love was alive.

It was not long before people on board the giant massive thing— it couldn't possibly be a ship. It just couldn't be!— started waving down at her in surprise, scrambling about looking down at her.

And to Min's sudden shock, someone dived off the thing dashing towards her like some great fish arms flashed, swimming violently towards her speeding faster than Min would have believed possible.

And Min felt Rand. The bond reconnected. Rand was alive. And swimming towards her!

"Min!" Came a scream, "Min!" Delighted, the sound was, but to Min's shock, that was not Rand's voice. As the person grew closer, Min's eyes widened. She sensed that this was Rand. The bond told her that for certain… but… she was… a…?

"R-Rand!?" She exclaimed in shock. "You're a woman!"

The woman, with Rand's eyes, stopped and treaded water for a moment. She gave Min a delighted smile and lunged, hugging her with a forcefulness that had Rand's name all over it. Picking her up, lifting her _out_ of the water, while still treading water, Min was held aloft by the other woman. Light. This was Rand! The dragons on her arms should have been proof enough but on her waist she could feel the burn marks where the heron's had been branded into his hands, so long ago.

"Min! H-how did you get here?" The woman asked, joy brimming on her face.

Min tried to comprehend the question. It didn't work. Her mind simply didn't work. "H-How did I… I…? How did… Why in the light are you a _woman_!?"

Rand only laughed, as delight flooded through the bond. Abruptly, Min realized that many of Rand's hurts were gone. The sickness that had almost rendered him helpless was gone. The pain in his… _her_ side, the half healed, never healed wound thrummed only weakly.

Rand was well!

"Oh Rand, I'm so glad you aren't dead!" She exclaimed, as she fell, into her arms. "You were gone… I… I died. I was this close to… I… Don't you _dare_ ever try that again! You hear me, Rand al'Thor! Or I'll… I'll…!"

The girl kissing her abruptly cut off every thought Min had of boxing Rand's ears. Disgust along with an equal measure of shivery pleasure bloomed inside her. Rand was kissing her. That was normal. Rand was a woman! That was… was…

She didn't know how to classify that. Strangely, her heart raced, and her mind came up with some _very_ unsettling ideas that _no _woman with even half a brain should ever think of. But she did. For moments that stretched into minutes she sat there, confused on what she was supposed to feel. Obviously Rand didn't care. Bloody fool!

"I missed you so, Min." He said. Such conviction. Such happiness. It made her heart flutter. Rand being a woman did not at all change who he was.

The veins of gold still flowed. Rand was alive. And that was all that mattered.

* * *

Lyra yanked her sword hatefully out of another monster's head. Hated. Destruction! She was slay them! She would slay every last _one of them!_

Her sword flashed and cleanly sliced the head of another beast. The blade never dulled. She'd never understood that, but it never had. The blade was fine as one could be, and sharp enough to prick herself, even after the countless trollocs she had slain.

Lara… for Lara.

She had finally reached those she had allowed to escape. They had all been safe. They had all made it safely away from the damned beasts.

But Lara was writhing in agony on the ground when she had approached, Cherish lying on the ground vainly trying to heal the girl. Blood stained her. And Lyra's rage had boiled.

Reason could not touch her. Nothing could. She had to kill them! Kill these bastards who would hurt an innocent child! Her heart burned with fury and madness but she could not stop. Not when she, alone, dove into the massive main camp and began severing heads and limbs and snouts. Her blade slashed like lightning.

How many died to her blade today? A hundred? Two? The first camp she had mutilated, because she had come upon them in their sleep. The next, they had been ready. And still they fell. And the next. And the next.

How could they do this…? How could they have hurt such a small child? She was only a babe…! She was only a little girl!

It fueled her anger, and her rage, and she sliced. Another trolloc, this one with a goat's snout and boots fell to the ground, screaming in that sickening tongue. It's blood splattered across her face, but already she was covered in the red of dried blood. Tiredness was a thing of the past. She did not care. She would kill every last one of them.

_Every last—!_

Jerking with haste, her sword danced and severed the arm of one who had been about to slash at her from behind. Just as quick, she severed a leg, and let the bear-faced monster topple onto another, who's head she cleanly removed. Blood covered her once clean jeans. Her legs. Her running shoes.

A slice came in from behind her, and rebounded off the metal she had chained to her back. Spinning, she rammed the thing into the beast's body, stunning it for the moment she needed to twist and slice. She'd under extended. Hoping she'd sliced the thing's head of, her sword had not reached far enough, and it clawed vainly at its eyes.

By instinct alone she turned, her sword blocking a strike that would have slain her. An eyeless gaze stared at her and she knew terror. She didn't think she could move. Couldn't even breath! It was…

Somehow, as if through mud, her sword raised, and she blocked the viper-like sword of the Black-Cloaked one. She'd only seen these things before, and had done everything in her power to avoid them, and their terror striking gaze.

Leaders of the beasts, these things, that looked much like men, wearing all black, with cloaks that the wind did not touch, terrified her more than anything ever had.

Anything… except seeing an eight year old, writhing in pain.

Her sword flashed, as fast as the eyeless one. Faster. Swinging, relentlessly, giving the thing no time to attack, for if it did, she would surely die a quick death. She had to slay them! All of them! And that meant these men-like dark creatures would have to fall to her blade as surely as the beasts!

Slash. Slash! She struck like lightning and did not stop, keeping the viper sword on the defensive. Angrily, she spun, bashing her back guard into the thing, stunning it the same way she had the beast from before. Another sword slash, this one trying to cut off the thing's legs, but it was blocked just as fiercely.

How? How could this thing be so god-dammed _good!?_

It took the opportunity to strike, slashing like mad, as fast as she in every way. Her strokes warded attacks now, and flung her own whenever she could. But she was tired. Tired and tiring. At full strength she thought she might be able to match this devil's blade, but she couldn't keep up. Her sword swung and missed, but she was barely able to scramble back, tumbling over her back guard as she scrambled to get away from the eyeless gaze and the black sword.

To her feet, as fast as she could, it was all she could do to duck the incoming blade that sliced down her side, just barely missing slicing her.

Her clothes, sliced, began to his, as if burning, and she ripped the sleeve off, tossing it away. If that sword was even more dangerous than the beast's curved scythes, then a touch of it would be enough to kill her.

"_Eina ti'Isovra…" _The black man said._ "I will _love_ making you sing for me… angel of blood." _The voice was like nails on a chalkboard to Lyra, but she had no time to think. Around the eyeless one, what seemed a hundred of the beasts sprung to life around her.

Lyra… grinned. She could handle these things.

Slice. Slice. Slash. Like an endless dance, she flowed through the spinning blades. Her anger carrying her, to heights she had never dreamed herself capable of, and the monster's fell. One by one. Or in twos. Or threes, many slaying each other in the hopes of slaying her, her sword was like fire.

It seemed forever that she had been fighting, but her mind told her that it had been only moments since she had begun this, newest assault. Again, she stood, facing the eyeless one. Alone. Every trolloc dead. Every prisoner able to move trying desperately to crawl away.

The eyeless growled, a seemingly wordless snarl of rage. Forward it flashed, but for some reason, to her eyes, it seemed so slow. So very slow. Even as tired as she was, she could kill it now. She knew she could… what was giving her this strength? What gave her this ability? She didn't understand…

She parried the first strike. The second. And the next, she pushed the sword back, and sent her own strike at him. The Myrdraal's head flew from its shoulders, and the body thrashed like mad.

'_Myrdraal? _What's a Myrdraal?' She thought, even as she approached the body.

It thrashed, and without warning, flipped over. To her shock, the blade nicked her leg. And she howled.

Poison seemed to seep into her, and it was barely moments before she too, lay on the ground. Sickness of the black sword began to filter into her mind. Pain, beginning from the small cut in her leg, seemed to flow from it, and grow, and blister and multiply.

'All that… and this is how I die?' The thought was dim, floating in over the din of her own straggling and the seemingly undead eyeless one's thrashing.

"Venus… Love Me Kiss."

Words…? She felt a touch on her forehead. And vision faded back in. Vision that she hadn't even realized she'd lost. Pain began to seep away. And…. And…

"L-Lara! How! You… I… Am I…?"

She looked around. 'Am I dead' had been the question she had almost asked. Dead beasts lay everywhere, and the eyeless one still thrashed, some thirty paces away. And Lara. The little eight year old girl's face stared down at her in concern.

A… Japanese style _fuku_ adorned the young girl's small hips, and a tiara of gold circled her head. Orange pauldrons mixed with a white vest and blue bow all surrounded her to make her look like…? Like…? What? A dress up doll?

"You're okay! L-Lyra… Why did you…? Why did you leave!? I was so afraid…" The girl stated, quietly, as Lyra sat up, still in shock.

She didn't know what to say. She reached out, to try to touch the girl… but pulled back when she realized her hands… her entire body was covered in blood and gore. "I… I thought they had hurt you. I thought… I thought you were dying. So I… I…"

The girl smiled. "I thought_ you_ were dying." She exclaimed, worriedly. "So… I… I don't know what happened. I just said words and… and you're all better!"

Senshi. That's what it looked like. A Sailor Senshi. Japanese fairy tales. But… how else was she alive…? Oh but she ached…

"Lyra…" Cherish's voice. "By god…"

"Come on Lyra… you need to rest. Okay?" Lara said, cutely. As if she wasn't staring down at a girl covered head to toe in demon blood.

"I… we… All… alright." Weakly she replied. And she found sleep almost as soon as her eyes drifted closed.

* * *

* * *

Machin Shin, once known as the Black Wind of the Ways, flew endlessly. He didn't know where he was, or where he was going. He didn't know why. How. He just flew. He'd cried for so long that he could hardly breath.

Ranma was a man. Ranma was a man! Not a woman… how? How could that be?

As he flew, so many flashes. Their past. The things she did. Things she said. There were literally _hundreds _of signs. But he'd never believed. He'd never even thought… that… that she? It just wasn't possible. And so he'd flown away. Away. He'd just had to get away from her. Those penetrating blue eyes, _her_ eyes, on that face with black hair. It was so… _wrong._

He couldn't see her… _him_ again. Not now. Not ever! He didn't care if his madness really did take him. Damn him! Damn Ranma Saotome to the slopes of Shayol Ghul and burn him forever and ever!

If Machin could have had even the _thought_ back, he would've. 'I've loved her for more lifetimes then most people live _years! _How could I let this… how could I…?"

It mattered. He thought about telling himself it wasn't important but it was. It was. It was sick. Disgusting. Revolting! It made him want to vomit, whenever the thought of the black-haired man rose in his mind, but still the red-haired woman…

Days he flew, stopping only to sleep. His dreams were plagued with thoughts of the two. For to him they were as two. The black haired man, stealing his Ranma away from him.

He wanted her… oh light, but he did! He did! He would die for her! Kill for her! But…

The blue eyes on the man's face, always turned him back. Machin couldn't harm the man who carried those eyes… how could he? They were one in the same. One in.

It was five, perhaps six days later. Machin didn't know where anyone was, _who_ anyone was. The land had changed since his time in this world, but not so much. It was on the fifth day, that Machin had stopped his mourning. His crying. He was a fool, and he knew it; dreams of her would keep haunting him.

But he was free. He was able to live among the world. Live as a his own _person_ in this world once more! The cruelty of ages long past had been redeemed and now, here was his second chance.

Given time, he could forget Ranma. He knew he could. In time… in time.

He told himself the lie, hoping that if he said it in his mind enough times, someday it would become true. His love for her still burned like the sun, amazing beyond measure in its very existence, but… something was different.

Every passing day, Machin found himself grow a little harder. Every passing day… he came a little bit closer to terms with the fact that Ranma would be forever beyond his reach. He would not touch her. He could not, not knowing that she was not truly…

It didn't matter. The point was that he _was_ coming to grips with what had happened.

It was that fifth day. His eyes cast out over the magnificent view of the sea, cast from the very edge of a series of rocks. Heat blazed and scorched the earth even though he remembered it had been winter when he had left Ranma. How far south had he flown? How far away was she?

He couldn't feel her anymore. Her ki didn't even exist. She could be dead, as far as he knew, and that was as depressing a thought as he could ever have.

Idly, he hopped out to one of the many small pillar-like islands dotting this strange yet unbelievably beautiful place. Water crashed against rocks what seemed miles below. Far to the east, he could almost see the hints of a city, it's towers spanning high into the sky, though they seemed little more than pin points in the mist of the morning.

"The world is a beautiful place." He remarked casually. "And I'm finally part of it again. Perhaps… I can find a new reason to be…?"

"Strange thoughts, and a strange man." Remarked a woman's voice.

Machin jerked around. A young looking woman, perhaps no older than he looked, though surely not nearly his actual age, stared up at him from a lower rock pillar, her arms folded beneath her breasts.

"I… A man can have his own thoughts." Machin stated, calmly. Who was this woman? And how had she gotten up here? He knew there weren't many people who even believed flight was _possible_ let alone know how. But, unless she jumped from the cliffs edge one rock at a time, and long jumps they would be, all, there was no other way.

"That a man can. Yet not many can scale these pillars, young philosopher." She stated, as if certain _he_ were the younger. Well. He'd show her.

"That is true, I suppose. One could wonder how a woman in skirts was able to accomplish the same? Can she fly perhaps?" It was worded as a joke. But he thought the woman might have taken it seriously, when her expression deepened.

Well… it was _possible _that she could fly. Just… supremely unexpected.

She quirked her head to the left, as if studying him. Then, she leapt. And almost as fast as Machin could follow, she stood right next to him.

With shock, Machin realized that the girl held a beauty that was rare in the extremes. Not… not quite Ranma's beauty. But…

'Forget Ranma! I have to forget her! She betrayed me! It's her fault so I just have to _forget_ her!' He exclaimed in his mind. Surprisingly, with this beautiful dark haired woman standing in front of him, circling him like an innkeeper inspecting a bouncer for hire, the words actually helped.

Machin felt something… odd. Like a slight poke that didn't actually happen, but it faded as quickly as it had.

"You can't channel…" She stated melodiously. "And yet… here you stand…" The woman said. Then, she poked him in the chest harshly. "Strange…"

'An innkeeper inspecting a bouncer? More like a cat and mouse.' He thought, nervousness creeping into him.

He'd never been comfortable around those who could channel. Ranma couldn't, he knew, but it seemed every now and then, that she might be able to. It was all very strange…

"No. I can't." He stated, staring down at her. "There are other sources of strength than just channeling. A truly wise woman would know that." He said.

"Ah! How true. But it is not the one power that brought me up to these high rocks. Who are you? Why are you here, in my place?" The woman asked.

He frowned. "I don't see a name written on these rocks. They seem quite free for anyone to stand and enjoy the wind, and the sunset." This was quickly becoming some sort of strange battle of wits. And he'd surely scored a point. She'd asked his name first. "But… if there were such a name, I would know it."

Shock suddenly filled him. He was flirting! _Flirting! _'I just had my heart shattered, and now less than a week later I'm… I'm…!' He couldn't finish the thought. But neither could he stop the small grin that his face produced as she smiled warmly.

Suddenly, in one of the tall rock pillars, edges of the great formation began to carve out, a grating sound, like chiseling and pieces of rock fell in the hundreds to splash into the waters below. When it was done, a name lay carved into the great pillar.

The word "Lilen" carved into the rocks in a marvelous and flowing script lay there now. And it took everything Machin had in him not to gape in shock.

"And now it is mine. You see? The name." She stated, as if joking, but serious at the same time.

Machin's eyes narrowed slightly. He had just as much right to be here as she did! And so, he reached out his hand. He knew he didn't have too, but it was always easier to deal with ki, if a hand was outstretched to help him work it.

Crumbling rock fell again, from a different pillar this time, and shoddily, the name "Machin" carved itself into the rock below. It wasn't half so pretty as hers was, but when he finished he gave her a small smirk.

"Two can play…" He said, leaving the rest of the phrase unsaid.

She looked unperturbed, yet impressed all the same. "You are… an interesting person. Machin? Yes. An interesting person indeed. So. Shall we perhaps find a good place to watch the sunset? Company… would not be amiss."

"I… I agree." He found himself saying. He couldn't help a small glance over her body. Hidden will by her clothing, a collar of pale white decorated her dress. Legs showed from the knee down, and a pair of casual slippers adorned her feet, that looked somehow good for both hiking and a ball at the same time.

The girl leapt, and landed on a much higher pillar some twenty feet away or so. Then leapt again, after a quick glance towards him to let him know he was welcome. At least, that was what he thought.

Machin paid no heed to jumping.

He flew, climbing the pillars till he reached the highest one, and sat down, chuckling at her astonished face as he flew by her.

It was some minutes before the woman finally appeared over the side. This pillar was almost a plateau, and there was plenty of room for possibly four people to lay full length and be comfortable.

"You took your time, Lilen." He stated with glee. Shock decorated her face and he couldn't help but chuckle. "It seems my was is a bit more quick than yours. Though I suppose I'll allow you to sit on_ my_ pillar."

'What in the light am I _doing? _What about _Ranma!?' _He did his best to disregard the thought.

The woman almost retorted in anger… but she held her tongue, and said only, "It… seems so."

Striding casually, she sat down next to him, quite close to his pleasant surprise, as his eyes trailed over her again.

It was a long time that he and she just sat there, staring as the sun finally fell beyond the distant horizon, slowly sinking low, that small city in the distance lit for a short time with the sun as its backdrop. Just sat together, watching it fall.

It was a surprise to find that his hand was holding hers. He barely knew her! But he liked her… he did know that.

"Machin… Would you… like to hear a story?" She said. It was with near frailty that she asked the question. As if afraid he would say no.

"What kind of story?" He replied, wonderingly.

Lilen leaned closer. "It's… about a woman who was once the ruler of a planet. Do you know what a planet is?"

Machin smiled. "I do. And I will listen. But… only if you would hear the story of a man who became the wind, and found his way back to manhood once more."

And so the exchange of pasts began.

* * *

Ranma Saotome stood staring into the east. Ever since he had rescued both Akane and Keika from the clutches of that… _place_, he had not felt the slightest glimmer of madness. It was as if it had been burned out of him. Burned out and destroyed forever. The joy he had felt had not faded. Not in the slightest. Even now he wanted to sing.

It had been a few days. Two of which it had taken to get Keika to stop trying to blast him to smithereens for hurting the people of Tar Valon but he didn't care. Showing the curse. Showing who he was, had been a thing of ease. A splash of cold water, and tears had welled up within the girl's eyes. After that, all was forgiven. Tar Valon could burn if Keika had her mother.

Akane was a different story. Anger had been in her. Anger for attacking the tower. _Strong_ anger. But even that had not quelled the light in her eyes. The joy. It was almost comical though, introducing Keika to her mother— her _true_ mother— had been an experience all its own.

"What do you fucking _mean_ my _real _mother!? You're my mother! I don't need another one! I don't want a—!"

"Shut your trap, young lady!" Ranma barked, flipping her red hair behind her. Why? Why did she _ever_ let the girl grow up with Setuma Ayo as a role model? It was unbecoming of a Saotome! Now _that _had amused Akane to no end! Ranma? A mother! Ranma man-among-men Saotome!? Hah hah!

Well… not that she'd had much choice at the time. Fortunately that had worked for getting the girl to shut up, so he could introduce Akane to her, as his mother, and himself as her father.

It was all funny in a way. Akane had been thrilled to tears. Her temper showed every bit as much as Ranma remembered it. And Ranma had felt true happiness for the first time… in… he couldn't remember.

"Ranma! Dinner's ready!"

Well. He _had _felt happiness… _Now_ he felt horror.

Something that he'd somehow managed to forget in all his time spent in the ways, was that Akane had been able to cook things that could slay Myrdraal and have trollocs running to jump into their own cookpots.

Now. How was he to explain that, as a twenty thousand some odd year old immortal being, he was incapable of eating the woman's food…?

"Ranma… get over he—!"

"He's out there, Akane." Ranma said, voicing his thoughts, while interrupting her to change the subject all at the same time.

Akane looked curious. "Who?"

Ranma winced. He'd… avoided mentioning Machin Shin. Akane still did not even really know the man existed. Nor the thousands of years she'd spent with him. The kisses, few though they were. The emotion, had not gone away.

Fortunately in male form, it had fallen to a friendly kinship, like to that of a brother. And as a woman, Ranma had always felt just shy of love for Machin. So it wasn't too difficult a thing to worry about.

But he had fled. He had fled, when her curse had finally been revealed to him. Of course he had. Why wouldn't he? He'd fooled himself into loving her for millennia. She knew it would come someday. But still, guilt wracked her.

So she gazed to the west, where she could feel his ki.

"Machin shin. I… He is… a very good friend. And I betrayed him. He will hate me… but… I hope he can forgive me. And I hope you don't mind, if we follow him. I… need to meet him. Soon." Ranma replied calmly, not looking at her.

He couldn't look. Even the slightest glance at her would bring up images from their first night together. After the reunion. After Keika had fallen asleep.

Oh god had it been wondrous!

"I… what better do we have to do Ranma? I… I could take us home. I know how. But… is that… right? I am Soun Tendo's daughter… but now, a hundred other faces in my memory are father to me. A hundred other names. Keika the babe is gone. They will not know her. Should we… should we go back?" Akane asked, solemnly.

Ranma turned to her. Images of her, naked in the moonlight sprung to mind almost immediately, and his face flushed. Still, breathing through his nose to be sure it wasn't clogged with blood he stammered. "Y-Yes. I want to see… pops again. And… she has a right. Family. She has a right to grow what she has left to grow with her real family. All of them."

He was still having trouble wrapping his mind around the fact that his family was still alive. Even eighteen years ago, when Keika was a little babe, the surprise had been momentous. Now, it was still as large.

That wasn't the only thing. Akane, a hero of the Horn of Valere, fated to come whenever the horn called her. Fated to fight in the last battle. Returned from the grave, just in time to stop Ranma from destroying the Tower, which would rally the world when the Last Battle came.

Whom Akane, in another life, had just so happened to become the leader of, once!

It was all… convoluted and left her very confused, but still it was good to know. Her own story seemed to confuse Akane just as much, if not more. Usually, the woman ended up sighing and saying something along the lines of "The wheel weaves as the wheel wills." And, "Fate led us together again. Let us simply treasure it." That was usually said with a sigh of exasperation that he could not explain better.

Keika just became happy. She didn't remember ever seeing Ranma with such smiles on his face. She scowled when he was male quite often, which led to her spending about equal time in either form. Red-head to appease her daughter. Black, for his wife.

And so they settled like that. Traveling, flying. Walking.

Only Akane really _needed _food. But Keika had become addicted. And by some _horror _filled calamity, the stupid girl actually _liked _Akane's cooking! It was as if the women were conspiring against him!

"Then, we will find him. If it's important to you Ranma, we will. Just know… I won't ever lose you again. Not ever. I love you, Ranma Saotome." Akane stated, she'd said much the same many times before now. It made Ranma's bones shiver, and his blood boil. Especially when she said it with just the slightest hint of lust…

"And I you, Akane." He replied.

He leaned in, and they kissed.

He would never have enough of her. Not if he lived a thousand times a thousand more lifetimes. Never enough. Even so, he happily gave himself a mental high-five for distracting her from the pot, that just conveniently happened to— completely by accident mind— tip over and splatter all over the ground while Akane wasn't looking.

Some two miles away. A gateway opened. A dark man walked out, black flecks dotting his eyes…

* * *

**End Prologue**

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_Author's Notes:  
_

WOW that was fast! But damn, have I been in the mood to write or what!? One entire prologue, written in a single day. Written, edited to my hearts content and published.

Wow. And 8k words to boot!

This author has never written more in a single day. Add to that, that I wrote another 2k on Her war! It was amazing! Like… the words were simply flowing off my fingers! Beautiful really. Just Beautiful. Hope it doesn't feel rushed but honestly I felt quite good about it. Didn't even need a rewrite. Well. Usagi's scene did. But just hers.

Sorry for it being a little jumpy too, but this is a prologue. Gotta remind you all where the story lines all left off. I'm proud too. You all thought venus was gonna be Lyra didn't'cha! Hah! Fooled you!

I truly hope this does a bit better than Mark's final chapter did. 8 reviews? Really? That sucks. Really sucks. I'm saddened by it. So…

**Please Review!**

I worked so hard! I deserve a pat on the head. Or hell, flame me. Those are always fun to roast marshmellows with!

So this little trilogy fic is finally drawing to a close. The feeble ideas of a fifteen year old kid, grown into a mildly epic fantasy story by a just-able-to-drink in America adult. Heh. What can ya do?

Hell I don't even know what I'll do when it's done… write a play? Heh. Oh well. One final note. DAMN and it's crappy ass horizontal rules! They never show up! Aaaargh!

Again, **Please Review!**

Till Next!

MB


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